


Fracture

by lovedsammy



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: AU-felina, Foul Language, Gen, M/M, Rape, long-term captivity, non-con, pet/owner implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovedsammy/pseuds/lovedsammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU-Felina. He was going to show Walter White just how wrong he was -- Pinkman wasn't a partner, far from it. He was theirs to do with as they would, and now Walter would see just how much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fracture

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the Breaking Bad Kink Meme on lj:   
> http://brbakinkmeme.livejournal.com/521.html?thread=217353#t217353

“I’m going to show you just how wrong you are. And then I’m putting that bullet in your head myself.”  
  
The conviction weighed heavily on the air as though it were a smothering heat. Jack paced the perimeter of the living room, sparing irritated glances in Walt’s direction every few seconds or so as they waited for Todd to return with Jesse. Jesse, who Walt hadn’t seen since that day nearly six months ago in the desert, when he’d given the kid over to them to be questioned, then killed, and hadn’t spared him a thought since. But they hadn’t gone through on their promise, and Jesse was here, working for them, as their partner.  
  
Jack’s men still had the gun trained to the back of his head, preventing him from reaching across the pool table which contained his car keys. His fingers flexed, tempted, and he wondered briefly just how quickly before the gun went off that he could grab the keys and set off the alarm and kill every bastard in this place even if it meant taking himself down with them. Not quickly enough, he could never be quick enough, so he’d have to settle for waiting, just waiting, until he could get a chance to blow them all away once Todd came back in with Pinkman.   
  
Walt couldn’t fathom how Jack could lie and insist Jesse wasn’t their partner – if he was cooking for them, a deal had been made. Jesse had coerced them, bargained, to let him cook in exchange for his life, just as he’d gone to the DEA in exchange for a lessened sentence. The coward’s way out.   
  
“Him being alive is not him and me being partners. Not by a damn sight,” That was what Jack had told him just minutes prior, had spat it as though the mere prospect of it were venomous, blasphemous. “What, you think I’d partner with a _rat?_ ” Then he’d turned his attention from Walt to Todd. “Where is that little piece of shit?”  
  
“He’s finishing up a batch.”  
  
“Well, go get him, bring him here.”  
  
So now here they were, waiting, and then the door was being opened, a returning Todd and Jesse in tow. For a long moment, Walt didn’t recognize the figure in the door to be Jesse Pinkman – he was much too gangly, his posture was wrong, and his appearance was...   
  
“Yeah, you see what I’m talking about, you son of a bitch?” There was Jack’s voice again, but Walt ignored him, almost absently, stare fixated on the person in front of him, because it just couldn’t be him, it just couldn’t –   
  
But it was. It was Jesse, though he could hardly believe it. This Jesse wasn’t the boy he’d seen out in the desert, kicking and screaming as he was carried off to his inevitable death. This wasn’t the same Jesse that had spit in his face and worked with Hank as an informant, the cowardly degenerate that had turned him in. No, this wasn’t Jesse.   
  
Jack quickly seized the bound boy by the back of his neck and thrust him forward towards Walt, causing the younger man to stumble and stagger on his feet. “Now does that look like a partner to you? Come here, take a look! Come here!” Walt hesitated, the barrel still pressed to the back of his head following him, inching forward closer slowly, until he was near enough that he could see Jesse clearly in the room coated in semi-darkness.  
  
As he stared at him, the man realized that this was the hollow shell of the human being that had been Jesse, physically personified. His eyes, still that same pale blue that Walt remembered, were dank and lifeless, not wide and emotive when he was angry, or upset, or happy; not dilated and glazed over when he was high. This was a completely different demeanor, one that had most likely been beaten and carved into him, trained, like a pet would be to obey his owners.   
  
The chains at his wrists, mid section and feet seemed to limit his mobility, and he was half-hunched over as he gazed up at Walt, expressionless, with just the hint of fear or anger, or something touching his eyes – Walt didn’t know what to call it. “Take a look at him, have gander,” Jack quipped sarcastically. “This is my partner. Right, partner? Right, buddy? Hard-workin’ good partner, fifty-fifty partner.”  
  
And then Walt was being dragged back away from Jesse, gun nearly digging into his head. Jack was behind him, growling into his ear. “You dumb bastard, insulting us by thinkin’ we’d work with this little filthy prick. He works for us, ours to do with as we want! You gave him to us, and we took the liberties to do what we wanted with him. Hey, show him.”   
  
He gestured at one of his men, whom Walt recognized as the man that had patted him down outside, then to Jesse, a smirk formulating on his lips. “Show him just how much we do with this little dog of ours. Have some fun with him. The more you can get ‘im to scream, the better!”   
  
There was a barrage of laughter, the other men seeming to find the suggestion humorous, giving their associate a pat on the back jovially. Walt wasn’t a stranger to seeing Jesse get the ever loving shit kicked out of him – hell, he had dealt some of it himself. So the idea of a beating shouldn’t have created the first sign of definable emotion on Jesse’s face – fear, terror. It was all over his features, and as the man came closer, he barely concealed a visible flinch.   
  
The guy grabbed a fistful of Jesse’s now nape-length hair, tugging painfully. Jesse grit his teeth, but otherwise did not cry out or give any vocal sign of discomfort, and then the other hand was trailing down the kid’s neck, his chest and –   
  
Suddenly, it became horrifically clear to Walt what Jack and his gang had not only already done to Jesse, but also what they were still willing to do to him, how far they were willing to go to hurt him. “Jack – ” He stepped forward to intervene, surprising himself, but the click of the ‘safety-off’ of the gun stopped him dead in his tracks.   
  
“Shut up,” Jack commanded, cigarette set smugly between his lips as he craned back against the chair as though observing a show. “Stand there, shut up, and watch. I’ll show you just how much of a partner this scumbag is.”   
  
The movements began to get more obscene, large hands cupping Jesse through his dirty, baggy pants that obviously were not his, giving hard, rough clasps to his genitals, and Jesse hissed, attempting to pull away. “Oh, no you don’t, you little bastard,” The man warned him. “Let’s see how much of a pussy you really are, huh? You got lady parts, or are you just a pansy?”  
  
Then he was pulling, tugging down Jesse’s pants and overly filthy undergarments, and Walt wished for nothing more than to look away, for this to stop, to either spare himself or Jesse, he wasn’t sure. All he knew, his eyes locked on Jesse’s, was that this was nothing he’d wanted for him to go through. Nothing, not even the kid’s betrayal, had warranted such a punishment, such an existence, and God only knew how much he had suffered at the hands of this sadistic, torturous bunch before he’d arrived, what had been going on for the six long months he’d been kept here. It made him feel ill, disgusted, appalled that his former partner was being subject to this kind of ongoing torture and mistreatment.  
  
The man still had his fingers grasping Jesse’s hair as he yanked his head back, getting into position behind him. Jesse gave a whine in protest, squirming, some spark of defiance emitting in spite of his seemingly yielding behavior. His clothing was pooled around his shackled ankles, and he kicked, in vain, at his captors.  
  
“Look at that, he’s a man after all,” Kenny, from behind Walter, sneered. “Who’da thought that, the way this bitch cries all the time?”   
  
The man violating Jesse gave a bark of a laugh, reaching inside his pants to pull out his already fully erect cock. “He’s gonna take it like a man, too. Aren’t you, pussy?” He pushed Jesse onto his knees, causing the younger man to cry out, and shoved himself inside him.   
  
The scream that tore from Jesse’s throat was tearing, raw, and it emitted something inside Walter, something he thought he had buried since that day in the desert. Absolute fury, ire, was building up inside him, and he wanted to unleash it, wanted to pry that perverted fuck off of _his_ Jesse, the boy who was like a second son to him. Thrust after thrust, for so long it seemed an eternity, and the men were all jeering, laughing, clapping their hands as one of their own had his way with their prisoner. _Prisoner_ , Walt reminded himself. _Never partner_.   
  
Tears were running freely down Jesse’s face, eyes half-lidded as he upturned his gaze back to Walt, expression full of humility, anger and pain, and in that moment, everything changed. The guy finally removed himself from Jesse’s shuddering, shaking body as he collapsed to the floor, blood dripping down the kid’s unclothed legs from the ferocity that the man had pounded into him, and in the span of a second, Walt had had enough, had seen enough. The others were momentarily distracted, enjoying the view, and all it would take was a second, and he could open the trunk.  
  
The keys were within his fingers before he could even comprehended having moved, and he was throwing himself to the floor, on top of Jesse, hand protectively cradling the back of his head as he pressed the button and the gunshots began to fire.


End file.
